


calm

by instillared



Series: all the small things [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 11:00:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13500462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/instillared/pseuds/instillared
Summary: “i missed you so much,” soonyoung whispers into wonwoo’s skin. “it’s been absolutely terrible without you. i had two of my teachers call in sick this week so i had to cover their classes on top of my own and, did you know, five year olds are strangely more well-behaved than twenty year olds?”ori project myself onto hoshi at all times.





	calm

**Author's Note:**

> for some reason i had issues formatting this on ao3...hopefully there aren't any mistakes but please let me know if you spot anything!

it’s a sunday. sunday night, to be exact. wonwoo is tired, having just carried his luggage up three flights of stairs thanks to a still out of order elevator. he’s just barely managed to punch in the code to the apartment correctly in under two tries and all he wants to do is sleep. but fate is cruel.

here are the things he notices almost immediately upon wading through the studio:

  * at least three (3) half empty venti sized starbucks cups
  * two (2) mostly empty cup noodle containers
  * five (5) grocery sacks each containing different snacks



and one (1) very suspicious looking boy-shaped lump on the bed.

wonwoo decides there are a few courses of action he could take. considering this boy-shaped lump has not moved since he arrived, he weighs out each option carefully. 

there had been a death in the family. no one wonwoo had been particularly close to, but close enough to need to take an entire week off to go home and help with arrangements. this meant an entire week away from their apartment, away from work, away from the very boy-shaped lump who becomes more and more alarming as the seconds pass. 

stepping ever so carefully around the piles of laundry and textbooks scattered about their shared bedroom, wonwoo leans over the side of the bed and removes the edges of the duvet to reveal a bare faced kwon soonyoung. an exceptionally stunning soonyoung who is, remarkably, still asleep. sniffling, just a bit. 

wonwoo gently presses the back of his hand to soonyoung’s forehead, frowning when it feels warmer than usual. he’s pretty sure soonyoung isn’t running a high fever, maybe overheated from work. there’s no sign of a cold sweat, which is good, and he doesn’t look sick. 

he looks beautiful. like a breath of fresh air. the calm before a storm, after a storm. an eternity he wouldn’t mind wasting. _god_ , wonwoo thinks. _you’re somehow too poetic when you’re tired. this is why you’re trying to be a fucking lit professor._

with the softest movements wonwoo bends forward to press his lips against soonyoung’s cheek, hands tucking the hair matted to soonyoung’s forehead behind his ears. “soon-ah,” he whispers, “i’m home.”

there’s the slightest fluttering of eyelashes and suddenly wonwoo is met with the sudden realization of _what the fuck_. soonyoung’s nose bunches up, another sniffle, before his eyes open and meet wonwoo’s. and then soonyoung is undoubtedly overwhelmed.

“ _hyung_ ,” wonwoo despairs as soonyoung springs from his sleeping position and launches for wonwoo. his arms latch around wonwoo’s shoulders, face billowing into his neck with a stream of nonsense coming from his lips. his legs are at what looks to be an extremely uncomfortable angle so wonwoo attempts to detach himself briefly before soonyoung attaches himself once more. his legs wrap around wonwoo’s torso and wonwoo is extremely grateful he’s been doing more core exercises as of late as he only slightly struggles to keep soonyoung up. 

wonwoo really hates leaving soonyoung. he’d quit his job and drop out of school if it meant staying with soonyoung all day. there’s not even that much of a difference between their ages but sometimes soonyoung just looks so much younger than him, especially in moments like these. 

“i missed you so much,” soonyoung whispers into wonwoo’s skin. “it’s been absolutely terrible without you. i had two of my teachers call in sick this week so i had to cover their classes on top of my own and, did you know, five year olds are strangely more well-behaved than twenty year olds?” wonwoo chuckles, threading his fingers through soonyoung’s faded lilac locks. “and then myungho was having back problems again so he sat out for most of the week so we had hyunwoo stand in for him but hyunwoo isn’t, like, as fluid as him? hyunwoo is a wonderful dancer, he just isn’t myungho. he needs to loosen up sometimes.” he’s babbling now, a thing he does when he’s over excited or nervous. “anyway. how was home?”

 _it's not my home_. “it was the same as ever. my parents say hello and they look forward to the showcase. they like the concept,” wonwoo pulls soonyoung’s face back, brushing more hair out of his eyes. he looks impossibly young and wonwoo is star struck. 

the concept, of course, is something he knows soonyoung is most proud of. soonyoung, a dance major, working on his final showcase project with another senior and two younger peers. the song would be an original composed by the members themselves and put together with the help of another senior friend. beomju, one of the heads of the music program, oversaw the entire project. it took up most weekends, whatever free time any of them could offer. and that was just the music.

the other senior, junhui, was, oddly enough, an international relations major from china. he’d only been in seoul for less than five years but at their last showcase he’d performed an interpretive piece with another classmate from china and soonyoung had all but fallen in love. with both of them. 

myungho, minghao, the junior. a double major in dance and photography. also from china. his korean was more formal at most times, as if he’d only just began learning it. which he probably had. in his previous life he was a b-boy extraordinaire and added that sharp punch soonyoung desperately wanted for his choreography. he was too tall and stringy but somehow, wonwoo supposed, that worked.

then there was the first year. chan. wonwoo only knew about him prior to the class because he was desperately in love with their eldest friend and it was all they talked about for a while when he met up with seungcheol. chan was a fresh set of limbs yet his coordination was always perfect. 

finally, wonwoo muses often, soonyoung. the ringleader of the brigade. wonwoo had met him in a weird friend of a friend situation their first year. wonwoo knew seungcheol who in turn knew jihoon who knew soonyoung, jihoon who also knew (and was dating) mingyu who knew wonwoo. he remembers dinner after a first year showcase seungcheol had dragged him to when they were living together. the idea was to cheer on mingyu but his eyes were sort of stuck on the shorter dancer. 

at an overcrowded table, seating himself next to soonyoung who, at the time, had jet black hair. soonyoung had introduced himself as the choreographer for the hip hop portion of the program. “ _i’ve been dancing since i knew how_ ,” he’d offer in between bites of meat, “ _always heard a song and the choreography would just come like second nature_.” 

that was four years ago. wonwoo remembers courting soonyoung carefully and cautiously, avoiding the offchance of scaring soonyoung away. he knows now there would have been zero chances of that happening because soonyoung was every bit, if not more, infatuated with wonwoo after that dinner. wonwoo only knows this because a drunk soonyoung is an even more loquacious soonyoung. 

loquacious soonyoung who admits to have written _highlight_ about wonwoo. he probably doesn’t remember this because wonwoo will often ask sober soonyoung about the lyrics and notices the tips of soonyoung’s ears turning a precarious shade of red before shaking his head and giving some bullshit answer about the stars or the moon. and wonwoo is the one studying romanticism.

after a few minutes of holding soonyoung against the bed, cooing soft words into his ears and stroking his hair, wonwoo attepts to separate himself from soonyoung. it’s late, he realizes, and he is still exhausted. “c’mon,” he encourages, “you have a long day tomorrow.” 

soonyoung, however, has completely passed out against his shoulder. limbs gone slack, it’s easy for wonwoo to displace himself now and rest soonyoung on his back. soonyoung shifts a little, hands grabbing for wonwoo’s before wonwoo can step away from the bed and wonwoo pouts, “let me get out of these clothes you heathen, i’ve been in them all day.” 

he changes, brushes his teeth, washes his face, deciding on unpacking his suitcase in the morning in between classes. when he steps out of the bathroom soonyoung has returned to his previous position of curled up lump under the duvet and it causes wonwoo to laugh. he also can’t help but snap a quick photo to shoot off to their group chat.

wonwoo >>> [image attached] _has anyone seen my cat?_

he does’t bother waiting for any responses and sets the phone face down on the nightstand, carefully lifting the duvet once more but this time so he can crawl underneath. soonyoung always faces the wall their bed is up against so it’s easy for wonwoo to wrap himself around soonyoung’s body, pulling him in flush against his bare chest. he listens for the telltale signs of soonyoung’s breathing, rhythmic and soothing, before tucking his chin over soonyoung’s shoulder. 

in all the hustle and bustle of the last week, wonwoo decides it’s nice being back here. being back home.

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this in less than 12 hours because inspiration hit. 
> 
> comments/kudos adored and appreciated. find me on tumblr @ instillared.tumblr.com
> 
> EDIT: you can now find me on twitter! @instillared   
> come say hello


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